


Almost There

by HiddenEye



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Anxiety, Attempt at Humor, Betrayal, Blood, Dry Humor, M/M, Trust Issues, exiled, wolf shiro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 17:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13416198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenEye/pseuds/HiddenEye
Summary: “Someone came and checked your injuries before he left, said you broke your radius at three different places. Plus,” the man narrowed his eyes when Shiro began limping towards the kitchen himself. “You shouldn't move around, even if it's been two nights since you dropped on my porch.”-With the world high on alert for possible traitors, Shiro gets injured and mentally shattered after being exiled by his own pack. A Shifter whose reputation is tainted by his own kind, Shiro's forced to stay in his wolf form until he knows when he can flee. Until then, he lets the leather clad hands of a man take him in his care.





	Almost There

**Author's Note:**

> *shoves my other wips under the bed* Anyway! Hello, I'm starting a new multichap fic with at least some decent planning beforehand unlike of my other fics that I mostly started out of impulse.... But I'm kinda excited to start this one and I hope you enjoy it!

The snow, no longer new and soft than the first time it fell from the skies, conquered the forest until no land could be seen.

White masses stretched wide around him while Shiro felt his paws sink into the crisp dough entirely, limping past tall trees that stood menacingly above him while blood caked at his flank. The cold evening air did nothing to stop the way it stung his nose while he panted through the pain of his gaping wounds, ears and eyes alike peeled carefully for any unwelcoming threats that he might have to face out of surprise.

He shook his head to get rid of the drops of scarlet from obscuring his vision while the scar on his nose relentlessly bled, a gracious goodbye gift given by one of his ex-teammates before he was banished from the organisation. Glancing down, Shiro narrowed his eyes at the way his mangled front leg couldn't be used properly. Bitten and yanked on earlier that day, he figured that the bone would be broken at a few places to simply be treated like mere scratches.

Letting out a cloud of tired breath, he lifted his head to where the too quiet forest loomed in front of him, where nothing seemed to move while he disrupted the silence lingering in the air by shuffling about. There was no wind nor the sound of birds, small animals that could be used as meals to consume until he found a proper place to stay were nowhere in sight.

A bleeding wolf was hardly a welcoming sight, he deduced, forcing himself to trudge forward while the only company he had was his own heavy breathing and the white noise ringing in his ears. If he was going to survive long enough to fix himself, he needed to find shelter first.

Time blend in together seemingly as the sun began sinking over the edge of the horizon, dipping the skies with darker colours while shadows from the trees began their descend towards him. His breathing was becoming more laboured while he blinked away black spots that began to dance in front of his eyes, feeling the way his limbs weighed down while his tail dragged on behind him.

It wasn't until he heard a branch snapped that he straightened his posture, frozen in his place with alarms set off inside his head while he darted his gaze from one trunk to another, looking for its source. He knew he was in no condition to fight, not when he was far too exhausted to even walk properly, and he wasn't given the choice to run when his leg wouldn't help him in getting out of there any faster either.

He carefully dissected through the clearing, picking past every small and large obstacle he found with his ears perked for anymore sounds.

Nothing made its presence known, and that didn't make Shiro feel any better as he forced himself to move forward, ignoring the way his muscles screamed in protest while he left the place without giving out any indication of alarm or fear. That didn't stop his heart from pounding in his own throat though, and it took effort in not letting himself bare his teeth as a warning to those who were watching him from afar.

He blamed the leftover betrayal and rage to make him overly paranoid and aggressive.

It took him a few more miles before he was able to see a small globe of light in front of him. When he squinted to have a better look, he was able to make out the outline of a cabin and the way it remained tall in what light it had. He let the surge of relief to boost himself into a trot, wanting to sleep for the next of the night as he promised himself to look at his wounds once he had enough rest.

As he got nearer, he allowed himself to let down his defenses while the sight of the sturdy building seemed to ground him for a while, where all he could think of was curling at one corner of a room and let all his worries vanish.

It didn’t occur to him that he was already committing his second mistake.

He hadn't realise the first three trees that were scratched on the moment he passed them; it may be the fact that the owner’s scent was long gone, and Shiro was too blindsided with what was already being offered in front of him to notice.

He hadn't realise the pair of eyes carefully watching him from where their owner was crouched on top of the roof, well hidden out of sight since the colour of its coat blended easily with the shadows. Shiro hadn't notice the way the creature lashed its sleek black tail once in irritation while it watched the wolf steadily ignore all the warnings that blared in his face.

Shiro was about to set foot on the porch when a sudden weight dropped on the railing, and he scrambled back in alarm while a creature - no, a _black panther_ \- stared at him with its bright eyes.

The wooden floor let out a loud thud when the panther landed on its feet, and it sank into Shiro then how he was trespassing into someone else's territory by the way the feline was baring its fangs at him.

Lean muscles bunched up in warning under the single yellow porch light, and Shiro saw the way the panther’s body gleaned as it began stalking towards him with its ears pulled back against its head. Shiro backed off, his own ears pressed against his skull while he tried to not stumble from his own damaged leg.

The panther followed him down until it stood at the very edge of the small stairs, tail now lashing as it straightened itself to its full height.

_Please._

If Shiro still had his strength, he would have taken down the panther just because he was desperate to get out of the cold. But, he still had his dignity to preserve, and he wasn't going to prove to a potential Shifter that he was one of those who couldn't give a damn about respect and keeping peace between Shifters of all species. He couldn't even tell if this panther was a Shifter or just a normal animal that was merely wandering around.

But, it had been too long since he left the facility to focus properly, far too long since he was ambushed in his own bed for him to remain standing in the middle of the night with no food or care for the past eight hours. He knew changing into his human form wouldn't be an option if he was going to brace himself against the cold winds, and so remaining what he was the moment he would escape was the best bet.

It didn't help when his head was already spinning while the same black spots remained consistent in his vision, and Shiro made the mistake of leaning most of his weight against his injured leg that caused a whimper to break free.

The panther hadn't moved from its defensive stance as it quietly watched Shiro take a few steps back, shaking his head to get rid of the ringing in his ears. When the panther took a step forward, Shiro couldn't help but jerk away in surprise before growling at the feline.

That did nothing to stop the panther, and when Shiro tried to force it to back off with a snap of his jaw, the world tilted mercilessly. He couldn't do anything as he felt himself fall to the hard crunch of ice underneath him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He managed a last thought before he blacked out.

_Help me._

 

* * *

 

The first thing Shiro noticed as his conscious trickled in was feeling warmth.

It took him a moment for the rest of his senses to catch up, and he found himself in an unfamiliar place the moment he blinked his eyes open, where he was deposited in what looked like a living room that looked as if it came out of some 80’s sitcom with its worn floral carpet and faded sofa set. But, last night's fire had helped chased the cold away, leaving him wrapped up in this cocoon of peace in the embodiment of a large flannel blanket.

He couldn't remember how he got himself inside though. Last night’s memories were muffled at best, where all he could recall was the snowy land and dark trees standing tall around him before he saw shadows moving behind his closed lids. Pressing through it was futile, he realised, and gave up on wanting to look past his still hazy mind when he glanced down to his covered front leg.

He nosed the blanket away to have a better look at it, only to see that it was bandaged up nicely with a cast; someone who was probably a medic of sorts, or those who tended to get into trouble as much as he did.

Shiro let out a soft snort. _Well,_ he thought, lifting his head to give another scan of the room, sniffing in the air as well. _At least breakfast is ready._

Standing up proved to be a problem despite his leg being taken care of, where he could still feel the dull throb spreading down the length of it as he began moving about. Bracing himself against the sofa, Shiro let out a grunt as he tried to stand up, careful to only use his three other legs.

Footsteps began landing heavily against the wooden floor, becoming louder at every second that Shiro tried to temper down the spike of anxiety shooting across his chest as he whipped his head up, lips subconsciously pulled back in warning when someone with dark purple eyes walked in.

The person, who had a figure of someone having faith in his own capabilities, didn’t look the slightest bit disturbed at the hostility Shiro showed as he used his shoulder to lean against the door frame. “I could hear you whine from the kitchen,” the man commented. “I thought you were dying again.”

His almost dismissive tone threw Shiro in a loop for a second, surprised that this person looked even bored at the sight of a large silver wolf occupying his cabin. The man crossed his arms, tongs in hand. “I hope you like stag meat though,” he continued. “Because I didn't have time to go grocery shopping when you suddenly made an appearance.”

Shiro, still using the sofa to hold up half of his weight, stared blankly at him. Somehow, the man was able to detect his befuddlement, and raised an inquiring eyebrow. “I'm not mad, if that's what you're wondering.”

Either this person knew what Shiro truly was, or he couldn't give a damn that he was talking to an animal that could snap his neck with a single pounce.

Seeing the fact that Shiro was injured, this man was probably taking his chances. _If_ he only saw Shiro as a wild animal that gotten hurt near the man's house and only took him in for the sake of tending to his wounds, then Shiro was going to let him be.

It was better this way, since someone within the community of wolf shifters had been trying to pick out fights with other Shifters that had led to a messy tangle of misunderstandings, and Shiro didn't know whether this person would be favouring the idea of a creature of the same species living in their home. Garrison had been trying to resolve that particular problem for the past five years, but they never actually knew who was responsible for planting the poison. Some predicted it was those feral rogues scourging outside their premises, some say it was internal.

Shiro never thought he'd be framed for those doings.

Snuffing the thought out, Shiro leveled his wary gaze onto the man, slowly pushing himself from the sofa to stand to his full height. The man did nothing to help him as he merely watched the way Shiro tried to rest his bandaged leg on the ground, and let out a rough grunt at the spike of pain shooting up his limb.

“Someone came and checked your injuries before he left, said you broke your radius at three different places. Plus,” the man narrowed his eyes when Shiro began limping towards the kitchen himself. “You shouldn't move around, even if it's been two nights since you dropped on my porch.”

Shiro tried not to let the news affect him too much as he continued his task towards his meal, sidestepping the man entirely. Two nights was a long time to pass out while his memories took the chance to slip from his grasp, and that would explain why Shiro couldn't remember anything that happened exactly before that.

He ignored the heavy sigh from the man as Shiro sat on the tiled kitchen floor, unable to stop panting while he caught his breath, where it was more towards how he still felt weak after waking up. His stomach clenched as the smell of fried meat slapped him in the face, tilting his head to where the source was coming from the counter above his head.

“You,” the man began as he stepped beside Shiro, who waved his tail in interest when the man took a plate of those delicious smelling meat into his hands. “should be resting. Not dragging your ass here and making everything more difficult.”

Shiro stared at him, hoping his wide-eyed look was penetrable.

The man only scoffed. “Yeah, that's not gonna work.” He waved his hand towards the living room dismissively. “Go. I'll bring them there.”

Frowning internally, Shiro quickly dismissed the thought of hopping up and grabbing the whole plate before he would make his retreat - he'd only hurt himself in the end, anyway - and instead tilted his head to the side, wagging his tail slightly for emphasis.

Oh, the perk of his ears played a massive part too.

The man pointedly watched the way Shiro’s tail thumped lightly against his ankle. “I wanted to feed you at the living room because it’d be warmer than the kitchen tiles, but since you're already here,” he trailed off, bending down to set the plate on the floor. “don't complain if your bones start to ache.”

 _I'm not even close to the age you might think._ Shiro grumbled, promptly offended, before his attention was pulled towards where the stag meat was presented in front of him in its glory.

Medium rare, just like his canine needs keened for. Shiro ducked down and took a huge bite of his meal, its juice bursting in his mouth in all its natural flavour that he couldn't help the pleased hum he let out as he continued to chew, dimly hearing the way the man chuckled briefly at his inhalation. “I'll leave you to it, then.”

The sound of a cell phone ringing made the man leave Shiro’s side, where he got out an old Motorola flip phone from his back pocket. Glancing up, Shiro was able to see a small frown tugging down his face, and pressed the answer button before he put the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” The man said as he made his way out of the room, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Yeah, Keith here. Sure, yeah, I'll wait.” Shiro peered at the man - _Keith_ \- from where he was still chewing through his food. Then, there was a huff of breath. “Christ, Hunk. Stop using new numbers and stick with one - “

The rest of the conversation turned into a mumble of words as the man walked out of his range. Shiro was able to see the way Keith grabbed his coat from the back of the sofa before slipping it on; shoving one arm into the sleeve before the other followed, the phone pressed in between his ear and shoulder. Yanking the door open, Keith stepped out into the white world with what sounded like another exasperated sigh.

Shiro took the chance to survey his surroundings for a while, taking note of how it looked as if the place had been left in the past instead of being updated with the world's current fixation in electronics. If the blue fire stove didn't give it away, it was how the cabinets were still obviously made from wood instead of those sleek silver ones that opened with a sensor. The sink had those four-arm knob his grandmother used to have, and Shiro could see the antique teapots stacked on the counter with its small forget-me-nots crawling around the body.

Licking the taste away from his lips, Shiro glanced at his empty plate, contemplating of asking for more before he dragged himself towards the living room again.

Even as he looked around, there was a small coiled stairs that led to the second floor near the front door while a dining room was on his left, hard covered books and records were stacked neatly on shelves with a vinyl player sitting snugly at one corner. Shiro couldn't help but feel slightly disturbed at the Russian dolls lined up in front of it, staring straight out of the window with its blank blue eyes.

He lowered himself into the blanket again, maneuvering himself gently in order to not jolt his leg so much.

If he was going to stay here for a while, he would have to be careful in making sure he didn't accidentally change into his human form in the middle of the night. Some people wouldn't appreciate the thought of having a naked stranger sleeping in their house.

Then again, some wouldn't just bring in an injured wolf either.

He was only glad that Keith didn't feel the need to call animal welfare to come pick him up, not when most of the organisations were under Garrison to control.

The doorknob jiggled before it opened with a swing, Keith walking in again while Shiro curled into a ball to protect himself from the cold air. He looked up when Keith dropped on the couch with a sigh, ruffling the specks of snow away from his raven hair. “I can't believe it snowed again,” Keith groused. “Aren't five inches of those things not enough?’

He let his hand dropped to his lap, and Shiro only looked at him curiously when Keith met his gaze by letting his cheek rest on his shoulder, raising an eyebrow with strands of hair falling into his eyes. “You're lucky,” he stated, and Shiro would have shot up his own eyebrows at the declaration. “Because you came here before the second storm rolled in.”

Then, Keith trailed his eyes to his bandage. “Your leg needs to be checked weekly, in case you got infected. My friend cleaned up most of it, but I'll have to do the rest since you're stuck with me.”

Shiro tried not to shift self-consciously, already knowing how his leg was almost damaged beyond repair. But, he let the possibility of it healing soothe the rattling ball in his chest until he would know its actual results.

Keith stood up then, shrugging his coat off before dumping it on the sofa. “I'll get you a bowl of water.”

He left as Shiro only watched how Keith strode towards the kitchen while rolling up the sleeves of his button down shirt, and Shiro hadn't noticed the fingerless gloves until it was no longer hidden by his clothing.

The black leather fit perfectly on his slender hands, twisting the squeaky knob until a burst of water rushed out. They were obviously a favourite from how worn out they looked, but still usable to not have the need to buy a new pair.

Keith set the bowl down in front of him. Somehow, some irrational fear of being poisoned raised as he stared at his own reflection, even if he saw with his own two eyes that it was simply tap water.

It didn't go unnoticed by Keith, frowning as he remained in his squatted position while his arms rest against his knees. “What's wrong?”

Shiro spared him a look before leaning down to give a small experimental sniff, hoping to appear subtle.

Unfortunately, Keith noticed. A dry expression crossed his face. “It's water. I'm not going to kill you.”

Yes, that was what Shiro figured when he was evidence of what he saw. But, doubt was a thorn buried deep in his side after the misgivings he went through, and he tried not to show any guilt when he met Keith's bored gaze.

Keith held the same look just to emphasise the ridiculousness of the situation. There was a clutter when his hand lifted the bowl again, and he would have gone longer out of spite if Shiro hadn't pulled away from those piercing purples.

“Hey.”

Feeling his heart jump at the call, Shiro jerked his head to where Keith held the bowl above the sink. Having his attention, the man deliberately let a trail of water hit the metallic surface with a stretched and hollowed echo. Then, he made sure Shiro was watching him take a deteriorating sponge to scrub the bowl thoroughly until every part of it was covered with suds. Rinsing it off, Keith arched his eyebrows as he wrapped his hand around the knob, before allowing water to fill the bowl again.

If Shiro wasn't so worried for his own safety for being in someone else's home, he would have laughed at how comical it looked.

Strolling almost lazily to Shiro, Keith set the bowl in front of him again. “There you go, princess,” he said lightly. “I made sure invisible creatures wouldn't touch it too.”

Shiro blinked unimpressively at him.

Keith folded his arms against his chest. “You're welcome.”

Mentally rolling his eyes, Shiro let out a short gruff of gratitude before ducking down to slowly lap at the water, letting his eyelids lower in content while the chill of it chased away his thirst.

Satisfied, Keith went to the kitchen again, and came back with a bag of chips in hand before he landed on the sofa with a grunt.

“Poisoning you,” he began, tearing the bag open with a loud crackle. “would be a waste after I made sure you'll stay alive.”

 _Why?_ Shiro didn’t lift his head up to acknowledge what he said.

But it seemed Keith wasn't going to continue the train of thought either, because he was already stuffing a couple of chips into his mouth with one hand while bringing out his cellphone with the other. Crunching loudly, he frowned at the screen before typing furiously, and Shiro tried not to wrinkle his nose at the obvious _beep_ of keypads being pressed on.

The guy was either not that eager to dive headfirst into the world of transparent smartphone screens and floating LED TV’s, or he was a drug dealer who preferred not to be too conspicuous and tried to be the slightest bit modest.

The attempt was rather obvious when drug dealers nowadays even used smartphones; Shiro was beginning to think this was because Keith had a thing for retro and make everything hard for himself.

Shiro side-eyed the loose laced boots beside him.

From where a thin layer of dust had collected on top of a frequency radio perched at the corner of the room, the cabin was more of a museum rather than a place for someone to stay in. But, museums have people looking after it.

This shack looked like it had been abandoned for a while before Keith moved in.

Pulling himself back, Shiro settled on his nest of blankets again, hoping to avoid getting his toes stiff from the cold as he curled his body tighter to himself, careful of his injured leg.

He needed to leave the house as soon as he could, and while this cabin was far more tempting than braving against the snow, Shiro wasn't going to burden someone with an extra mouth to feed.

If Keith was generous enough, he wouldn't mind Shiro taking a few slabs of meat for the road.

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, he was too restless to stay in one place for too long, even if it had only been hours since he first woke up from his short coma.

He had no destination in mind, but hiding from the Garrison’s eyes until he could prove himself innocent would be a start - only, he had to leave the place he was treated from in order to begin his journey.

The telltales of his irrational fear from the memories he rather avoid made his heart ramp up to his throat, choking him until the blanket around him was suffocating.

He had to go, and he had to go _now._

Shiro kept his senses on high alert when he tiptoed to the kitchen, being as stealthy as an injured wolf could without waking up the owner of the shack. He even looked around to make sure no one was looming over his shoulder before standing to his hind legs, nosing the small freezer open until a wisp of cold air curled at his nose.

His ears perked when he saw various amounts of containers stacked neatly in front of him, red meat almost bursting out of their covers that made his tail wag in excitement. _Jackpot._

Reaching forward, he carefully took the top container in his mouth, ignoring the stinging chill on his tongue as he dropped to his paw to set it down, mindful of the bandaged one.

 _This is going to last me a few days, at least._ Shiro thought as he nudged the container, faintly hearing the way the freezer door shut itself closed. _Have to preserve it until I can hunt, maybe-_

There was a loud crunch, and Shiro would have jumped a foot in the air if his leg hadn't been weighing him down.

Swiveling his head around, he found himself looking into purple eyes.

The moon was bright enough for it to shine brightly through the back windows, allowing Shiro to see his way around despite having help from his enhanced eyesight - and this illuminated the way Keith was sitting on the kitchen counter with an ankle on his knee, pants too long that it almost engulfed his feet while having one of his hands shoved into another family-sized bag of chips.

It was always sour cream. Shiro hated it with a passion and he didn't know why Keith consumed it regularly.

His taste buds, his money, Shiro guessed.

With his meat on the floor and a giant wolf beside it.

Keith continued to gaze at him almost impassively while munching on his snack, hair an equivalent of a rats nest indicated he just got out of bed - with, of course, the bag of chips in hand that made Shiro eye the lime green bag warily.

“What are you doing?” Keith asked blithely, taking another giant chip out of the bag.

It was hard not to appear guilty with his disadvantage at lower ground, where Shiro was forced to remain rigid on the floor with his head tilted to the person who helped saved him from death's clutches.

Where in return, he, Takashi Shirogane, decided to ransack his food supply to escape instead of giving a proper thank you. He would have made himself known in human form and show his gratitude in a much civilised matter, only he didn’t know what would be Keith’s intentions if he saw a wolf shifter sleeping in his house.

Hopefully, his grandmother wouldn’t be rolling in her grave at what he reduced himself into in order to protect himself.

He blinked, hoping to appear as innocent as he used to be when he was merely a curious pup with self-restraint issues instead of committing treason in someone else's house.

Keith, even with his perfectly composed expression, tilted his head slightly to the right. Considering his hair was in that choking condition, moonlight managed to catch onto the tangled strands and gleamed condescendingly back.

Shiro felt the full-faced smack of his sins and tried to hide a wince.

Keith looked down into the bag that caused a frown to weigh on his brows, letting his tongue swipe the front of his teeth to get the last of the salt, prodding the side of his cheek until he finished cleaning up his mouth with a smack of his lips - Shiro made sure his shoulders didn’t raise to his ears when the sound bounced off his eardrums.

“If you’re hungry,” Keith wiped his hand onto his shirt, still not looking up. “You could’ve just told me.”

Shiro could sweat from the implications as he stayed perfectly still while Keith rolled up the bag, before picking up where he left, “I’d hear you from my room. Just bark or whatever instead of moving around, I don’t want you screwing up your leg more.”

Tossing the bag of chips aside, Keith pushed himself off the counter to plant his feet on the floor. He propped his hands onto his hips, and Shiro stared intently at a loose thread on the hem of his pants. “I’m guessing raw’s good with you? It’s three in the morning and I’m in no mood to clean up the mess you would’ve made me do in the middle of the night if I were to cook, princess.”

From another perspective, some would have considered it alarming to see a man chastising to a wolf in his kitchen without anything to protect himself. His former pack, however, would probably laugh themselves sick at how Shiro was playing house pet in order to not jeopardise his identity - to a humiliating extent, he let the human call him _princess._

The reminder of his solitary made him swallow down a bitter pill, because a wolf without a pack might as well be a wolf dead.

“You’re lucky I was down here to get a snack,” Keith continued, snapping Shiro from his haze of simmering anger to see the way he picked up the container. “I don’t even wanna know what would happen to my kitchen if I didn’t.”

Shiro let out a snort, forcing the tension off his body to appear disinterested.

Keith raised an eyebrow as he began taking off the lid, and Shiro ignored the soft prodding by taking special interest on the old brown cabinets in front of him, ears twitching to draw back.

There was a clink where a plate was settled beside his feet, and Shiro turn his head to where a slab of meat was staring at him with its juicy texture.

What surprised him was how Keith lowered himself down until he was cross-legged on the other side of the plate, letting out a grunt against the chilly tiled floor.

The miscommunication between them was what caused the plate of meat to be served for him, and he wasn’t going to act suspicious when Keith thought he was in the kitchen because he was hungry, not because Shiro was going to slip out of the shack when he was sleeping. He dipped his head and took a bite of the meat while Keith watched quietly, where Shiro was able to feel needles prickling against his nape from his intent gaze as he chewed.

It wasn’t until he saw it first, a hand coming at the corner of his vision that the first assault of emotions were of panic.

They were going to lay hands on him again, and he wasn’t going to let that happen anymore.

A snarl raised up his chest as he snapped his jaws at the hand, tiny pieces of meat flying from his gums, and the owner quickly snatched it back to himself before Shiro had the chance to tear it off his body.

Keith made a poor attempt at covering his surprise, his fingers clenched on top of his thigh, a second away from being dislodged if he hadn’t been fast enough. Time crawled past in an agonising pace as they only stared at each other in silence; Shiro had his hackles raised and teeth bared with his legs spread a bit wider that looked as if he was going to pounce any second, food forgotten while having his gaze locked onto Keith’s.

What peeved Shiro a bit was the knowing look that began to settle in those purples, as if the human who picked him up and took care of him for the past few days had him all figured out when he couldn’t even control the hurricane inside him.

That could paranoia taking hold of his reins again, and guilt latched onto his gut.

“I’m sorry,” Keith told him in a low voice, trying to smooth down the bump he made. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Shiro did nothing, his heart thudding against his chest as he struggled to even out the blood rushing in his ears.

“I won’t touch you again,” Keith continued, and Shiro felt something drop to his stomach when Keith stood up. “Enjoy your meal.”

Shiro swallowed down a growl of frustration as he watched the man leave, his footsteps almost silent against the wooden floor as he began his way up the spiral staircase.

Shiro didn’t look away from the stairs until he heard the sound of a door being locked, and what food he ate weighed heavily in his stomach as he looked down to the rest of it.

As far as Shiro was concerned, he already owe Keith his life. He wasn’t making things any better with his harsh behaviour when all he received was a warm place to stay and a human who didn’t kill wild animals on sight.

_Rabid mutt. Monster._

For the first time in years, the foul aftertaste of raw meat was unpleasant on his tongue.

He left the plate there as he slowly made his way towards his pile of blankets, stopping by the bowl of water left for him to take a few laps before coiling himself tightly into a ball. He shut off the late night noises of the forest and the quiet hum of the shack, eyelids fluttering close.

The current problem was how Keith had an eagle’s eye trained solely on him, and Shiro knew it would be hopeless to run off while still on medication; Keith would be on his trail easily when his only capability was limping his way around.

Shiro sighed heavily, and willed himself to sleep.


End file.
